A LITTLE QUEEN AT HOME
Meanwhile, leaving the grave in the shaded corner of the farm garden, La
Giralda went out with many strange things moving in her heart. More than
once she had seen her own children laid in the dust, with far less of
emotion than this nameless little girl clutching her wooden puppet and
smiling, well-pleased, in the face of the Last Terror.
She found the donkey standing still and patient between his fagot
bundles. The she-goats, on the other hand, had scattered a little this
way or that as this blade of grass or that spray of _encina_ had allured
them. But a sharp cry or two called them together. For it was many hours
since any of them had been milked, and the full teats standing out every
way ached for the pressing fingers.
The Sergeant had, of course, long since completely disappeared up the
hillside, so La Giralda, with one comprehensive look back at the
desolate farmhouse, drove her little flock before her towards the town
gates of San Ildefonso. Like a picture, the dustily red roofs lay
beneath in the sunshine, spire and roof-garden, pigeon-house and terrace
walk. Parts of the white palace of La Granja also were to be seen, but
indistinctly, since it lay amid a pleasant distraction of greenery, and
the woods waved and the falling waters glimmered about it like the
landscape of a dream.
From the _Colegiata_ came the tolling of a bell, slow and irregular. All
else was silent. Presently, with her little flock before her, La Giralda
found herself skirting the high-paled ironwork which confines the
palace. She pursued her way towards the town, taking care, however, to
look sharply about her so that she might miss nothing.
The palace grounds seemed utterly deserted. The fountains slept; "Fame"
drove no longer her waters fifty yards into the air; the Frogs rested
from their ungrateful labours open-mouthed and gasping for breath. Not
even a gardener was to be seen scratching weeds on a path, or in the
dimmest distance passing at random across one of the deep-shaded
avenues. An unholy quiet seemed to have settled upon the place, the
marvel of Castile, the most elevated of earthly palaces, broken only by
the sombre tolling of the chapel bell, which would cease for five
minutes without apparent reason, and then, equally without cause, begin
all over again its lugubrious chime.
Down the zigzags towards the town went La Giralda, the goats taking
advantage of the wider paths to stray further afield, and needing more
frequently the touch of the wand, which the old woman had taken from the
donkey's load in order to induce them to proceed.
As the gipsy passed along, a small shrill voice called upon her to stop,
and from a side walk, concealed by roses and oleander bushes, late
flowering because of the great elevation, a richly-dressed little girl
came running. She ran at the top of her speed towards the gilt railings
which towered high above her head. Her age appeared to be about that of
the little girl whom La Giralda had buried among the pottery shards in
that other meaner garden up on the mountain side.
"Stop," she cried imperiously, "I bid you stop! I am the Queen, and you
must obey me. I have not seen any one for five days except stupid old
Susana, who will be after me in a moment. Stop, I tell you! I want to
see your goats milked. I love milk, and they will not give me enough,
pretending that there is none within the palace. As if a Queen of Spain
could not have all the milk she wanted! Ridiculous!"
By this time the little girl had mounted the parapet and was clinging
with all her might to the iron railings, while a fat motherly person had
waddled out of the underbrush in search of her, and with many
exclamations of pretended anger and indignation was endeavouring to
entice her away.
But the more the nurse scolded and pulled, the more firmly did the
little maid cling to the golden bars. At last the elderly woman, quite
out of breath, sat down on the stone ledge and addressed to her charge
the argument which in such cases betokens unconditional surrender.
"My lady Isabel, what would your noble and royal mother say," she
gasped, "thus to forget all the counsels and commands of those put in
authority over you and run to the railings to chatter with a gipsy wife?
Go away, goatherdess, or I will call the attendants and have you put in
prison!"
La Giralda had stopped her flock, obedient to the wishes of the little
maid, but now, with a low curtsey to both, she gathered them together
with her peculiar whistling cry, and prepared to continue her way down
into the village.
But this the little girl would in nowise permit. She let go the iron
rail, and with both hands clenched fell upon her attendant with
concentrated fury.
"Bad, wicked Susana," she cried, "I will have you whipped and sent about
your business. Nay, I myself will beat you. I will kill you, do you
hear? I have had nothing to eat and no one to play with for a week--not
a gardener, not a dog, not even a soldier on guard to salute me or let
me examine his sword-bayonet. And now when this dear, this sweet old
Senora comes by with her lovely, lovely goats, you must perforce try to
pull me off as if I were a village child that had played truant from the
monks' school and must be birched for its fault!"
All the while she was speaking, the young Princess directed a shower of
harmless blows at the skirts of her attendant, which Dona Susana
laughingly warded off, begging all the while for pity, and instancing
the direct commands of the little girl's mother, apparently a very
exalted personage indeed, as a reason for her interference.
But Isabel of Spain was not to be appeased, and presently she had
recourse to tears in the midst of her fury.
"You hate me--I know you do--that is what it means," she cried, "you
would not have me happy even for a moment. But one day I shall be Queen,
and do as I like! Yes, and drink as much warm goat's milk as I want, in
spite of all the stupid, wicked, cruel Susanas in the world. And I shall
throw you into a dungeon with nothing but mice and rats and serpents and
centipedes--yes, and snails that leave a white slimy trail over you
when they crawl! Ugh! And I will have your hands tied, so that you shall
not be able to brush them off when they tickle your neck. Yes, I will,
Susana! I swear it, and I am growing big--so big! And soon I shall be
old enough to have you put in prison with the mice and snails, bad
Susana! Oh, wicked Susana!"
Now, whether these childish threats actually had some effect, or whether
the old lady was so soft-hearted as her comfortable appearance denoted,
certain it is that she took a key from her pocket and passed it through
the tall gilt railings to La Giralda.
"Go down a hundred yards or so," she said, "and there you will find a
gate. Open it with that key and bring over your animals to the little
pavilion among the trees by the fountain."
Upon hearing this the Princess instantly changed her tune. She had got
her own way, and now it was "Beautiful Dona Susana! Precious and
loveliest companion, when I am Queen you shall have the greatest and
handsomest grandee in the kingdom to be your husband, and walk in
diamonds and rubies at our court balls! Yes, you shall. I promise it by
my royal oath. And now I will run to the house kitchen for basins to
catch the goats' milk in, and my little churn to churn the butter
in--and--and----"
But before she had catalogued half the things that she meant to find and
bring she departed at the top of her speed, making the air ring with her
shouts of delight.
Slowly, and with the meekest dignity, La Giralda did as she was bidden.
She found the little gate, which, indeed, proved so narrow that she
could not get her donkey to pass through with his great side-burdens of
fagots. But as these were not at all heavy, La Giralda herself detached
them, and, laying them carefully within the railings, she unhaltered the
patient beast and, tying him only with a cord about his neck, left him a
generous freedom of browsing upon the royal grass-plots and undergrowth.
The goats, however, perhaps alarmed by the trim daintiness of the place
and the unwonted spectacle of unlimited leaves and forage, kept close
together. One or two of them, indeed, smelt doubtfully at luxuriant
tufts, but as they had only previously seen grass in single blades, and
amid Saharas of gravel and sand, the experiment of eating an entire
mouthful at a time appeared too hazardous and desperate. They were of a
cautious turn of mind, in addition to which their udders had become so
distended that little white beads were forcing themselves from the
teats, and they expressed their desire for relief by plaintive
whimperings and by laying their rough heads caressingly against La
Giralda's short and primitive skirt and leather-cased legs.
In a few moments after they had reached the pavilion the Princess came
shouting back. She was certainly a most jovial little person, Spanish at
all points, with great dark eyes and cheeks apple-red with good health
and the sharp airs of the Guadarrama. Dona Susana had walked a little in
front of La Giralda and her flock, to show the superiority of her
position, and also, it may be, to display the amplitude of her several
chins, by holding them in the air in a manner as becoming as it was
dignified.
"Milk them! Milk them quickly! Let me see!" the Princess shouted,
clanging the pails joyously together. The walls of the pavilion in which
La Giralda found herself were decorated with every kind of household
utensil, but not such as had ever been used practically. Everything was
of silver or silver-gilt. There was indeed a complete _batterie de
cuisine_--saucepans, patty-pans, graters, a mincing machine with the
proper screws and handles, shining rows of lids, and a complete
graduated series of cooking spoons stuck in a bandolier. Salad dishes of
sparkling crystal bound with silver ornamented the sideboard, while
various earthen pots and pans of humbler make stood on a curiously
designed stove under whose polished top no fire had ever burned. At
least so it appeared to La Giralda, who, much impressed by the
magnificence of the installation, would promptly have driven her goats
out again.
But this the little Isabel would by no means permit.
"Here--here!" she commanded, "this is mine--my very own. My mother has a
dairy--I have a kitchen. Milk the goats here, I command you, nowhere but
here!"
And thrusting the bucket into the old woman's hand, she watched
carefully and eagerly as La Giralda pressed the milk downwards in
hissing streams. The she-goat operated upon expressed her gratitude by
turning to lick the hand which relieved her.
At this the little girl danced with delight.
"It looks so easy--I could do it myself! I am sure of it. I tell you,
Susana, I will do it. Stand still, _cabra_! Do you not know that I am
Isabel the Second, Queen of all the Spains!"
But the she-goat, having no very strong monarchial sentiments, or
perhaps being inclined to Carlist opinions, as soon as she felt the grip
of unaccustomed fingers promptly kicked over in the dust the Queen of
all the Spains.
The little girl had not time to gather herself up or even to emit the
howl of disappointment and anger which hovered upon her lips, before her
attendant rushed at her with pitiful cries:
"Oh, the wicked goat! The devil-possessed emblem of Satan! Let it be
slain! Did not your poor Susana warn you to have nothing to do with such
evil things--thus to overturn in the dust the best, the sweetest, the
noblest of Princesses!"
But the best and sweetest of Princesses, having violent objections to
being gathered up into the capacious embrace of her nurse, especially
before company, vigorously objected in much the same manner as the goat
had done, and at last compelled Dona Susana to deposit her once more on
the paved floor of the miniature kitchen. Having arrived in which place,
her anger completely vanished, for a tankardful of rich warm goat's milk
was handed to her by La Giralda, and in this flowing bowl she soon
forgot her woes.
"You must come down to the palace and be paid," said the little girl;
"we are most of us very hungry there, and those who are not hungry are
thirsty. The waggons from Madrid have been stopped on the way, and all
the guards have gone to bring them back!"
At this Dona Susana looked quickly across to the old goatherdess and
signalled that the little Princess was not to be informed of anything
she might happen to know.
"You have not been in the town, I trust!" said Dona Susana.
Now La Giralda could conscientiously have declared that she had never
been within the gates of San Ildefonso in her life, but thinking that in
the circumstances the statement might appear a suspicious one, she
modified it to a solemn declaration that she had come directly down from
her farm on the mountain-side, as, indeed, they themselves had seen.
Satisfied of her veracity, Dona Susana took her very independent and
difficult charge by the hand and led the way towards the palace of La
Granja, glimpses of which could be obtained through the foliage which
was still everywhere verdant and abundant with the first freshness of
spring--so high did the castle lie on the hill-slopes, and so enlivening
were the waste waters downthrown from the rocky crests of Penalara,
whose snows glimmered through the trees, as it seemed, but a bowshot
above their heads.
The goats, each expecting their turn of milking, followed at her heels
as obediently as well-trained dogs. Most of them were of the usual
dark-red colour, a trifle soiled with the grey dust on which they had
been lying. A few were white, and these were the favourites of the
little Queen, who, though compelled to go on ahead, looked constantly
back over her shoulder and endeavoured to imitate the shrill whistling
call by which La Giralda kept her flock in place.
When they arrived at the palace front the doors stood wide open. At Dona
Susana's call an ancient major-domo appeared, his well-developed
waistcoat mating ill with the pair of shrunk and spindle shanks which
appeared beneath. The sentry boxes, striped red and gold with the
colours of Spain, were empty. At the guard-houses there were no lounging
sergeants or smart privates eager to rise and salute as the little Queen
passed by.
There was already indeed about the palace an air of desolation. The
great gates in front towards the town had been closed, as if to shut off
infection, and the Court itself, dwindled to a few faithful old
retainers of Fernando VII., surrounded his widow and her new husband
with a devotion which was yet far more than their due.
It was not long before La Giralda had milked the remainder of the flock
and sent the creaming white pitchers into the palace. Little Isabel
danced with delight as one she-goat after another escaped with infinite
tail-waggling and bleatings of pleasure. And in the dearth of other
amusement she desired and even commanded the old woman to remain and
pasture her herd within the precincts of the palace. But La Giralda had
much yet to do. She must find out the state and dispositions of the town
of San Ildefonso, and then rejoin her companions in the little corrie or
cauldron-like _cirque_ in which she and the sergeant had left Rollo and
the other members of the expedition.
So after the small and imperious royal maid had been carried screaming
and battling upstairs by Dona Susana and the globular major-domo, La
Giralda, richly rewarded in golden coin of the realm, and with all the
requisite information as to the palace, betook herself back to the gate
by which she had left the ass. This she loaded again, and driving it
before her she retraced her steps past the corner of the palace, and so
to the porter's lodge by the great gate.
Here she was presently ushered out by a mumbling old woman who informed
her that her husband and son had both gone to Madrid with the troops,
but would undoubtedly return in an hour or two, a statement which with
her superior information the old gipsy took leave to doubt.
The town of San Ildefonso lay beneath the chateau, and to her right as
La Giralda issued from the gates. The houses were of an aspect at once
grave and cheerful. They had been built mostly, not for permanent
residence, but in order to accommodate the hordes of courtiers and their
suites who, in the summer months, followed the royal personages over the
mountains from Madrid.
As most of these had fled at the first invasion of the cholera, the
windows, at this period of the year generally bright with flowers and
shaded with emerald barred _jalousies_, were closely shut up, and upon
several of the closed doors appeared the fatal black and white notices
of the municipality, which indicated that there either was or had been a
case of the plague within the infected walls.
La Giralda went down the streets uttering the long wailing cry which
indicated that she had firewood to sell. But though she could have
disposed of the milk from the goats over and over again, there appeared
but little demand for her other commodity, even though she called,
"_Lena-a-a-a! Ah, lena-a-a-a!_" from one end of San Ildefonso to the
other.
A city watchman, with a pipe in his mouth, looked drowsily and frowsily
out of the town-hall or _ayuntamiento_. He was retreating again to his
settle when it suddenly struck him that this intruder had paid no duty
upon her milk and firewood. True, he was not the functionary appointed
by law to receive the tax; but since he was on the spot, and for lack of
other constituted the representative of civic state, he felt he must
undertake the duty.
So, laying aside his pipe and seizing his halberd and cocked hat, he
sallied grumblingly forth to intercept the bold contravener of municipal
laws. But the active limbs of the old gipsy, the lightened udders of the
she-goats, and the ass with his meek nose pointed homeward, took the
party out of the village gate before the man in authority could
over-take La Giralda.
Soon, therefore, the roofs of San Ildefonso and the white palace again
lay beneath her as the gipsy reascended by her track of the morning. So
long had she occupied in her various adventures that the evening shadows
were already lengthening when she returned to the corrie where the party
had spent in restful indolence the burden and heat of the day. The
Sergeant had not yet arrived, and La Giralda delayed her story till he
should give her leave to speak. For not even to the gipsies of the
Guadarrama was Jose Maria a greater personage than Sergeant Cardono to
La Giralda of Sevilla.
In the mean time she busied herself, with Concha's help, in preparing
the evening meal, as quick upon her legs as if she had done nothing but
lounge in the shade all day. It was almost sundown when the Sergeant
came in, dropping unannounced over the precipice as if from the clouds.
"We must be in La Granja in two hours if we are to save a soul within
its walls," he said, "but--we have an hour for dinner first! Therefore
let us dine. God knows when we shall taste food again!"
And with this dictum John Mortimer heartily agreed.